


not so far away

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon), sharpshooting



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, shiro's mentioned in there somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharpshooting/pseuds/sharpshooting
Summary: Keith has a nightmare. Lance provides... comfort, of a sort.





	not so far away

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> Klance with Keith having a nightmare and lance the comfort friend even tho they "hate" each other. Pls. Love your writing btw! Thank you!

“Okay! So _normally_ when people are at the kitchen table at three A.M., it means that _someone_ had a nightmare.”

“It’s three A.M.,” Keith echoed in a croak, wishing he had a pillow to pull over his head to block out Lance’s abrasive… _Lanceness_. “Why are you so loud. Why are you so _awake_.”

“I smelled sad,” said Lance, but made no effort to hide the fact that he was digging in the cupboards for snacks. “And since you’re up and don’t have a roommate to wake you up because _they_ had a nightmare, you must be the one who smells sad. Spill.”

“No,” Keith said mulishly. “Go away.”

 _“No-o,”_ Lance mocked, and then slapped something down in front of Keith loud enough to make Keith’s stomach flip unpleasantly. “Eat. Then spill.”

“Gross,” said Keith. He was feeling kind of monosyllabic tonight. Nightmares did that to a body, not that he’d ever let Lance know that. Then he actually looked at the food that had been metaphorically thrown at his feet, and blinked. 

It was that dried fruit he liked.

How Lance managed to pick it out of the cupboards when everything was in Altean was beyond Keith, but he was grateful for it. Pride not _quite_ strong enough to resist one of the few foods he found he liked out here, Keith ripped open the packaging and bit one of the berries in half.

It tasted like something halfway between a kiwi and a cream puff.

Keith, who liked both kiwi and cream puffs, found this an oddly pleasant combination.

“Who was it?”

“Shiro,” said Keith, unthinking.

“What happened to Shiro?”

Lance was sounding enough like a superior officer asking for a report that Keith continued, “Dead,” before his first admission could sink in.

“How?”

“Drowned.”

“Who did it?”

“Accident.”

“Were you there?”

That got Keith to stumble. “…Yeah.”

“Were you safe?”

“…No.”

“And Shiro couldn’t help you.” Those words sounded horribly gentle, somehow.

Keith wanted to argue that _no, it was me who couldn’t help Shiro_ , because that was just how their (his and Shiro’s, his and Lance’s) relationship worked, but here and now… he couldn’t deny it.

The nightmare really had been about Shiro, and how Shiro couldn’t save him anymore.

Because he was gone.

He was really gone.

Lance heaved a sigh.

“Look, man.” He had his chin rested in his palm, a glass of ice water leaving a little puddle of condensation near his elbow. “Shiro… Shiro’s gone. And I know… he was important to you.”

Keith’s heart sank like a stone, the verbal reminder tying the calamity in his chest to it and dropping it in a river.

“But you’re here. And _we’re_ here. And it’s not gonna bring him back, but… it’s something worth sticking around here for, you know.”

“‘M not suicidal,” Keith mumbled.

Lance hesitated a second too long, and then said, “I know, but if you ever need someone to talk to…”

 _You’re the **last** person I’d talk to_ , Keith thought. 

…Even if he was pretty good at getting things out of Keith that should probably be said to someone.

Fuck that. Lance was the little brother Keith had always known he didn’t want. _Really_.

“Fine.” Lance stood up, apparently having read Keith’s answer in his face. “Whatever! Don’t talk. I’m going to be in my room, _getting my beauty sleep._ ”

“Good ni-ight,” Keith softly mocked back, and then sank lower in his chair.

He had a little back and forth with himself as Lance chugged the ice water and then left the glass for Keith to clean up as he walked back through the door, and it wasn’t until he heard the door _whoosh_ open that he made his choice.

“…Hey Lance?”

“What?”

“…Thanks.”

Lance blinked at him, wrong-footed, and then raised his hand in… acknowledgement or silent farewell, Keith couldn’t tell, and then left.

Mercifully alone once again, Keith settled into his seat and nibbled his way through the rest of the berries.


End file.
